Paying Up
by BlackVelvetBand
Summary: He asked me if I was willing to put paperwork where my mouth was. I told him only if he was willing to put his mouth on mine. A continuation of Tossed Aside, Matsumoto sets out to collect on her bet from a rather unwilling Taicho... HitsuMatsu  COMPLETE
1. The Loophole

A/N: Hello readers! Having just finished (and beginning to re-read) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, my mind has been in creative overdrive. Since I promised that I would write a Hitsu/Matsu follow up to Tossed Aside, I began typing earlier this afternoon and voila! This chapter ensued. As of right now, I believe this story will be three parts long, this being the first. Just a reminder, I am only partway through the Arrancar arc, so I am only go off of what other stories seemed to have indicated about Hinamori and Hitsugaya, if I am in error, please inform me and I will change it. It really doesn't have any true bearing on the story anyway but I dislike inaccuracy.

* * *

**Paying Up  
****Chapter One: The Loophole**

Hitsugaya Toshirō slung one arm over his raised knee, dangling his other leg freely over the edge of the roof of the Tenth Division Office building. His expression was troubled, his turquoise eyes staring almost unblinkingly into the hoary glow of the moon.

He didn't know why, but it was always on nights like this that he grew pensive. When the world was calm, all the pain and suffering _any_ soul who had wielded a zanpakutō for over a century felt could well up without anything to hinder the tide.

People often mistook Hitsugaya for a child, but he was far from one. He had seen more in his relatively short time as a captain of the Gotei Thirteen than most humans saw in a lifetime. His best friend from his childhood, his first _love_, had even tried to murder him. He still remembered the look in her eye, that remorseless, wild look which told him she would rather _murder_ him than live without her beloved Aizen Taichō.

Hitsugaya shook his snow white head, breaking his train of agonizing thought as he sensed a familiar reiatsu approaching.

It was _her_.

Surprisingly, his fukutaichō was silent as she padded her way across the rooftop, making more noise than she usually did. He supposed she was attempting to alert him to her presence in case he had not noticed her.

She knelt down beside him, placing a tray containing two steaming cups of tea and a bright porcelain teapot next to her. Hitsugaya could not help but smirk at this act; it seemed far too domestic for his stunning fukutaichō.

"Taichō?" Matsumoto asked softly, her tone laced with curiosity.

"What are you doing here Matsumoto?" Hitsugaya sighed eventually, still keeping his eyes trained over the mostly quiet Seireitei. Two divisions over, all the lights were on and loud, lively music was drifting towards them borne on the musky breeze.

"I felt your reiatsu as I was heading towards my quarters and it made me wonder what you were doing up here all by yourself on a night like tonight," she replied, airily. He wondered if she wasn't being exactly honest.

"And _what_ exactly is the night like?" Hitsugaya demanded callously, just to hide the fact that he was slightly unnerved his fukutaichō appeared to know him so well. Did he have a large sign on his forehead that screamed he felt rather alone?

"Calm," she supplied, reaching over and lifting a teacup, blowing on it slightly. "Sultry," she continued, handing him the teacup. Hitsugaya jumped when her ample breast grazed his arm with the motion, one he was sure had been deliberate. "It's _romantic_. The type of night that lovers seek each other out or your sense of loneliness heightens. It's the type of night _some_ of those lonely people set out to find a willing partner to ease their solitude for a while."

Hitsugaya turned to face her for the first time, their eyes meeting. There was a ringing truth behind her words. Was _Matsumoto_ lonely? Doubtless her bed had played host to numerous men, all of them more than willing. He had thought for the longest time that she partook in this behavior because she enjoyed it. And while he knew that had to be part of the reason, he could not help but wonder if this was the other, larger part of it.

"Were _you_ lonely, Matsumoto?" Hitsugaya asked. The words seemed to slip out of his mouth without ever entering his brain.

What did this woman have that made him come…_undone_? It had been happening more and more lately― sudden slips of the tongue, an ease in his reluctant acceptance of her infamous hugs, the way he looked forward to her coming into the office everyday, and then finally, the bet.

"_Where have you been Matsumoto?" Hitsugaya demanded of his strawberry-blonde fukutaichō. _

"_I went to the Fourth Division to visit Nanao," she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder and crossing the room. "What kind of friend would I be, if I did not even show up to say hello?_

_He snorted. "Couldn't you have gone to visit _after _you finished all your paperwork?"_

_Matsumoto laughed lightly as if he had said something incredibly stupid. "Friends come _before_ work, Taichō. If I was lying injured in the Fourth Division, wouldn't you at least come see me before starting your boring paperwork?"_

_He opened his mouth to reply but couldn't think of anything to say. The truth was that if Matsumoto was ever injured, he wouldn't leave her bedside, let alone do paperwork. _

"_Oh Taichō," Matsumoto squealed at his disgruntled silence, running over and burying his head in her enormous cleavage. "You really _would_ come see me before paperwork! I have the best Taichō in the entire Gotei Thirteen!" He blushed profusely, both at her praise and the rather scintillating position he found himself in. _

"_Get off me, Matsumoto," he growled, jerking his head out of her grasp. _

"_Oh _fine_," she said, ruffling his hair. "One of these days you're going to enjoy my hugs." _

_He had a hard time admitting to himself that _that_ day had come a long time ago and the only reason he protested her hugs so much was to prevent her from seeing _exactly_ how his body reacted to her nearness._

"_You were at the infirmary for that long?" Hitsugaya asked after a moment, when his slightly fogged brain had had time to process her response._

"_Well, _someone_ had to carry Nanao's book to the Eighth Division as Kyōraku-san was carrying Nanao." _

"_He was what?" he asked incredulously, hardly believing for one second that the strict fukutaichō of the Eighth would _ever_ consent to being carried through the streets of Seireitei willingly. "And she _allowed_ him?"_

"_Oh, she wasn't too happy about it," Matsumoto giggled. "Well, actually, she was _incredibly_ happy about it, she just wouldn't admit it. Oh Taichō," she sighed, sitting on the edge of Hitsugaya's desk, "they are just _so_ adorable. I wonder how long it will take them to get together." _

_Hitsugaya looked up at his starry-eyed fukutaichō and his heart gave a small lurch. No woman had a right to look like _that_ without even trying. _

"_Ise Fukutaichō will never give in to that lazy excuse for a leader's advances."_

"_Kyōraku-san is a very nice man, Taichō," Matsumoto said with a slight pout, and Hitsugaya rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Perhaps you're only jealous that Kyōraku-san has a way with the ladies." _

_He blanched visibly, spluttering. "I am _not_ jealous! I just can't understand why any woman would find a useless lay-about who wears _pink_ attractive." _

_Matsumoto leaned down so that she was lying propped up on her elbow. _

"_Well, I guess that's good that you don't find Kyōraku-san attractive," she grinned, stroking one slender finger down his neck. "However, who you're attracted to is all a matter of personal taste. You see, some of _my_ friends can't understand why I prefer short, angry, white-haired taichōs to tall, dark and handsome, albeit, pink-clad ones." _

_Hitsugaya flooded with color. "Matsumoto, y-y-you can't say things like that!" _

"_Why not?" she asked brightly, blinking innocently at him. _

"_Because…just _because_," he snapped lamely. _

_She laughed, throwing her head back and exposing the elegant column of her throat for view. He was wondering if she was _trying_ to drive him insane. She gazed at him for a long moment, a frown creasing her brow. "Are you saying that I'm unappealing?" _

"_No," he said swiftly, too swiftly. "It's just…never mind. We are dropping this subject _now_. I don't even know how it got started." _

"You_ were saying that Nanao would never give in to Kyōraku-san and _I_ begged to differ." _

_He arched an eyebrow at her widening smirk. _

"_It's so cute that you're in way over your head here," she commented. Hitsugaya could feel his temple throbbing painfully, the usual symptom that stemmed from having too much Matsumoto, too quickly. _

"_You're so sure of yourself aren't you?" he asked sourly. "Are you willing to put paperwork where your mouth is, Matsumoto?"_

_She leaned forward, grabbing the sea-green sash that usually held his zanpakutō and pulled him towards her. "Only if you're willing to put _your mouth_ on _mine_." _

_Hitsugaya blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, his floundering brain registered the gleam of challenge in her eyes. And Hitsugaya Toshirō, youngest captain in the history of the Seireiei did not back down from a challenge. _

"_Deal," he said shortly, reveling in the surprise that flashed across her perfect features. "Now, get off my desk, you have work to do." _

He was broken out of his memory as Matsumoto bumped him slightly but not hard enough to spill the tea he was currently holding suspended in front of his lips.

"Not anymore," she said, replying to his earlier question. Her voice was as warm as the tea that was blazing a trail down his throat. But he knew her mere presence could warm him more than any beverage ever could. He turned his head slightly to look at her once more, treating her to one of his rare slight smiles.

He could not help but notice that she had changed out of her uniform, the dark purple fabric of her yukata shimmering silver when she moved, highlighting her hair like a golden sunset framed in a violet sky. They drank in silence for a few moments.

"What were you thinking about Taichō?" Matsumoto finally asked.

"Nothing," he replied tersely.

"It sure looked like it was _something_. You even had that cute little crease between your eyebrows that means you're concentrating extra hard. Well, you _usually_ have a crease between your eyes, but this was the crease with an extra little dent. That means you were thinking about something personal."

He blinked up at her, amazed that she had examined his features so well. He should have known better, really. Matsumoto, for all her reputation, _was_ intelligent and _incredibly_ observant.

"Were you thinking about _us_ Taichō?" she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her magnificent hair smelt faintly like ripe watermelon.

Struggling to maintain a hold on himself, he ground out, "There is no _us_ beyond Taichō and Fukutaichō, Matsumoto." She lifted her head off of his shoulder abruptly.

"That's not true is it?" she asked quickly, leaning across him to retrieve his teacup and place it once more on the tray. "I thought we were _at least_ friends, Taichō."

Hitsugaya grimaced at the strain in her voice. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings.

"Of course, Matsumoto. I just meant there isn't any _us_ in the… other sense." He blushed crimson, unable to bring himself to say the word.

"You mean _romantically_?" Matsumoto cooed softly, the smile evident in her voice. "We can always work on that," she stated, shifting herself so she could lay her head in his lap, and look up at his face. He resisted the urge to push her off, as she would probably fall off of the roof. "And, _you_ can start by paying up."

Startled, he glanced down at her. Her silver-gray eyes were dark, a seductive smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"What did you just say?" he asked.

"_I said_ you can start by paying up." She tugged on the front of his uniform, dragging him down so that his face was only inches above hers. "_I won the bet, Taichō_."

Hitsugaya felt as if his insides had dropped out from underneath him. Still slightly convinced that he hadn't heard her correctly, his brow furrowed, delighting Matsumoto who noticed the extra dent was incredibly visible.

"What bet?" he asked, hoping she would just call it off, forget he had ever opened his brash mouth.

"Nanao and Kyōraku-san are currently holed up in his quarters above the Eighth Division office doing unspeakable things," she giggled as he opened his mouth to protest that she had no proof. "I have witnesses, numerous ones."

She tugged him even closer, so that he was dimly aware that this position was not incredibly comfortable for his back, but the only thing he could _truly_ register was that his lips were now less than a breath away from her own.

"_You owe me a kiss, Taichō_," she whispered, her breath smelling slightly of sake and the green tea she had just drunk.

A part of him was screaming in triumph at his loss, while the other part of him wanted to run in terror. This was _Matsumoto_, the woman he had declared he would never get involved with even as puberty wracked his body with hormonal changes that had made him _quite_ aware that most captains would think themselves _extremely_ luck to have her as a subordinate. Wracking his brains for a loophole, he could only find one.

"Not right now," he choked out.

"What?" she asked, slightly breathless. He wondered if her heart was racing as well.

"I agreed I would kiss you, but I never told you when," he said, reaching up a hand to pry her grip away from his uniform.

"That's not fair, Taichō!" Matsumoto demanded indignantly. "I won fair and square. You have to kiss me!"

"And I will," he growled, slightly irritated at her insistence. What couldn't the woman let anything drop? "_Eventually_."

"_Soon_," she demanded, sitting up.

"Soon," he sighed.

They locked gazes. "I don't believe you," she said, leaning closer. For one moment Hitsugaya was sure that she was going to relieve him of his responsibility and kiss him herself, but she turned her head to the side, so that her lips grazed his ear.

"One week, Taichō," she whispered. "One week or I'll tell the entire Eleventh Division that you backed out on a promise, that you aren't a man of _honor_." She drew back with a satisfied smirk at his scowl and lay her head back down in his lap, her hair fanning around her luxuriously.

"Are you going to stay there all night?" he asked her peevishly a few minutes later.

"Maybe. I _am_ defending my territory after all," she laughed.

"What are you talking about, Matsumoto?"

"Weren't you listening to me earlier?" she asked playfully, reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of his face. "It's the type of night where lonely people seek out willing partners. What if I left you all alone up here and some beautiful woman came and stole you out from under my nose before I'd even gotten my payment kiss?"

Hitsugaya snorted derisively, his scarlet blush framed by his pure white hair. He could not help but think as Matsumoto smiled gently up at him, that she had nothing at all to worry about.

* * *

A/N: Please review, or you won't get part two! (I hope you at least kinda want it…) 


	2. Matsumoto's Victory

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! Since you were so nice, I wrote the new chapter today! For those of you who didn't read my Shunsui/Nanao story called Tossed Aside, Okuni was an original character that I devised to move my plotline along. She makes a cameo appearance here, but if you didn't read Tossed Aside it won't hinder your enjoyment of this chapter too much. Don't forget to review!

**Paying Up**

**Chapter Two: Matsumoto's Victory**

Hitsugaya avoided Matsumoto like a plague of hollows over the next few days.

This was _not_ an easy feat since she was his fukutaichō and was supposed to be working at the desk next to his for the duration of their office hours.

_Usually_, it would have been only too easy to buy himself a large chunk of time, free from her exuberant hugs, immaculate hair, and suggestive hints just by combining the word 'paperwork' and her name in the same sentence. However, Matsumoto appeared to have woken up the morning after _that_ night on the roof possessed by a work ethic to rival his.

She would sit there for hours, the scratch of her pen an unusual countermelody to his in the silence of the stuffy office. Every once and a while she would get up and open a window or make a cup of tea, as if to prove she was still there, waiting patiently for her kiss.

Oh he hadn't forgotten. How could he when his squad members kept shooting him sly glances every morning during drills? A few of the braver male members had even patted him on the back in order to congratulate him on catching the eye of one of Soul Society's most sought after women.

_Matsumoto Rangiku_, the unattainable trophy that all men wanted, even if it just sat on their shelves for a night, so long as they could say it was _there_. Just the thought that she was viewed that way― like an _object_― made Hitsugaya almost physically ill.

_Usually_, it was always Hitsugaya tracking down his fukutaichō (who claimed to have a dreadful paperwork allergy) and he suddenly found their roles reversed. _He_ sought out every task, no matter how small, that would take him away from his desk in the Tenth Division even if just for a few minutes.

So far, he had supervised the transport of every single member of the Eighth Division (and one Yamada Hanatarō) to the Fourth Division for hangover remedies and, in a few cases, stomach pumping. He had even consented to watch the advanced class from the Academy spar with each other, barking out orders for improvement. Currently, he was supervising reconstruction in the Eleventh Division after some of its members had decided to engage in one of their infamous "remodeling" sessions.

"Taichō?"

"_Damn_," Hitsugaya swore under his breath, Matsumoto's musical voice and familiar reiatsu assaulting him in what he had moments before thought was a safe zone.

"_There you are_, Taichō!" Matsumoto said cheerfully, wrapping her arms around Hitsugaya from behind and giving him a brief squeeze. She let go much quicker than she wanted to, attempting to keep him from becoming irritated.

A few yards away, a couple members of the construction crew smirked as one of Hitsugaya's eyes gave a noticeable twitch.

"I was worried about you," Matsumoto went on, one slender, yet strong hand lingering on his shoulder. He fought for a moment to keep the blush from rising to his cheeks but was entirely unsuccessful.

"I can look after myself, Matsumoto," Hitsugaya stated harshly, wishing desperately that she would remove her hand.

"But, Taichō!" she protested. "It's _Thursday_."

Driven to distraction as her hand shifted slightly, like she was trying to convey a message without words, Hitsugaya could not help but turn around and look up at her. Her face broke out into a radiant smile.

Hitsugaya could not prevent himself from noticing that her eyes were the exact same shade as the rather stormy looking sky, her hair looking like curtain of flame against the dull backdrop.

He'd grown a couple inches recently, he noted for the first time with pride. His forehead was nearly even with her elegant collarbones, instead of directly in the middle of her…_chest_.

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?" he ground out, turning away from her when he realized he was staring. Behind him, he could almost feel her smile plummet as her reiatsu dipped slightly.

"We _always_ spar at four o'clock on Thursday," she said, a slightly disbelieving tone to her voice. "I even went out to our spot thinking you didn't have time to stop by the office beforehand, but you weren't there. I thought something big might have happend."

If he did not have such a superb level of self-control, Hitsugaya would have smacked himself firmly on the forehead. In light of his… _loss_ (it still pained slightly to think about it) and his desperate attempts to avoid Matsumoto, he had completely forgotten about their weekly tradition.

He and his fukutaichō engaged in a full-out, friendly sparring match each and every Thursday evening. He had originally used these little matches as a way to get to know his bubbly fukutaichō better. They had kept it up because both were unwilling to admit just how much they enjoyed their short hour, completely alone, in the quiet forest near the outskirts of the Seireitei.

_This week_ however, Hitsugaya knew that he would be walking on thin ice if he went _alone_ with Matsumoto to the forest where they were both guaranteed to get rather sweaty and worked up.

"I can't leave," he said. "There's no one to supervise."

At this Matsumoto positively beamed. "That's alright. I've brought you a replacement!"

She stepped aside to reveal a girl who was actually an inch shorter than Hitsugaya, with chocolate colored hair pulled up in a long ponytail. Atop the usual uniform she had tied a colorful sash emblazoned with a geisha holding a mask and smiling mysteriously. Tucked in the cross section of the sparkling garment was a large steel fan.

"Who are _you_?" Hitsugaya asked, raising one eyebrow. The girl seemed undaunted by this frosty behavior, however.

She smiled widely and gave a short bow. "Takahashi Okuni of the Eighth Division, sir."

"Matsumoto, she isn't even a seated officer!" Hitsgaya stated accusingly, feeling _quite_ comfortable that he would _have_ _to_ remain behind.

"Rank isn't everything Taichō," Matsumoto replied flippantly. "Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if Okuni here was moved up to fifth seat, maybe higher, by tomorrow afternoon."

"Kyōraku is finally holding a placement competition?" Hitsugaya asked the girl, interestedly.

"That's right! I'm sure he would have done it sooner, but he and Nanao haven't been in the office much this week, if you know what I mean." She shared a sly look with Matsumoto before turning back to Hitsugaya with a shrug. "I've actually been doing most of the paperwork, but what can you do?"

"And this doesn't bother you?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh no, sir. The Eighth is delighted with this turn of events. I think you witnessed the…_aftermath_ of our celebration." The girl continued to smile brilliantly into Hitsugaya's imperious silence.

"Anyway, Taichō," Matsumoto broke in, "Okuni is going to stay here and supervise the construction for the rest of the day while we go and spar."

"You expect _her_ to be able to handle all these men?" Histugaya looked at his fukutaichō as if she were certifiably insane.

"Don't worry about me, sir. I've worked in the theatre," Okuni assured him. He didn't quite know what this had to do with anything. "If they get too out of control, I can always use my initial release. It'll be good practice."

Hitsugaya glared at Matsumoto. The image of one girl against the entire Eleventh Division construction team didn't really sit well with him. He turned back to the girl only to come face to face with…himself.

He jumped slightly, but managed to keep himself from squealing in a manner that was certainly unbefitting of a captain.

"_Matsumoto_!" the other Hitsugaya barked. "What are you doing just standing there? You have work to do!" His other self suddenly dissolved into a fit of girly sounding giggles.

He blinked and the petite brunette was standing in front of him once more.

"I have an illusion huh?" she asked. Hitsugaya gave her a short nod, begrudgingly impressed. "Now, why don't you two run along and have fun whacking each other? I have things _totally_ under control."

Hitsugaya opened his mouth to protest when Matsumoto's hand covered his, shocking him into silence.

"Come on, Taichō," Matsumoto said, tugging him after her. "You look like you could do with a good fight, you seem so…frustrated lately. And no fancy stuff, we're doing this the old fashioned way."

She turned and waved merrily over her shoulder at the brunette who waved back with a knowing wink.

The last thing he heard before Matsumoto dragged him around the corner was a loud voice yelling, "Okay boys, let's pick up the pace! If you can get all this done by six o'clock you can have _free sake_, compliments of the Eighth Division!"

- - -

Hitsugaya faced Matsumoto across the spacious clearing. A few feet away, his white captain's haori and Matsumoto's pink scarf lay on top of a large, flat boulder.

He hefted Hyōrinmaru in front of him as Matsumoto lifted Haineko into a denfensive position; her eyes alight with the challenge.

_Why_ did it have to be _today_ of all days that Matsumoto demanded they fight using their zanpakutō only in the lowest forms _and_ without the use of shunpo?

Did she not realize that Hitsugaya thought she looked _amazing_ when in battle?

"Are you ready, Taichō?" she asked, grinning.

He merely grunted in reply and swept forward for his first attack. He lunged at her, sweeping his blade across her body in an upward arc. She parried his attack easily, turning her wrist and sending his sword point flying toward the forest floor.

"You're going to have to do better than that or I might win today, Taichō," Matsumoto taunted as she brought her blade swinging across the space where Hitsugaya's head had just been.

He stabbed his blade at her stomach from his crouching position, forcing her to retreat a few steps. He vaulted off the ground, turning in midair and swiping his sword across her torso before his feet had even touched down. Matsumoto blocked his attack with slight difficulty, dancing out of reach again.

"Why are you being so defensive today?" he barked at her, disliking this change in her fighting style; usually they attacked in equal measure.

"_I'm_ not being defensive," she called, thrusting her weapon at him. He blocked her blade and quickly jabbed his own at her which she dodged. "_You're_ the one whose been avoiding me."

Momentarily stunned, he dropped his guard. Matsumoto landed a forceful kick straight to his chest. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. He rolled to the side just as Matsumoto approached to pin him at sword point.

"I haven't been avoiding you," Hitsugaya said angrily, grabbing the wrist of her sword arm and spinning into her, delivering a sharp blow to her abdomen with his elbow.

He backed up a few steps, out of the range of her sword.

"Don't lie, Taichō" she gasped. "You've been avoiding me ever since I told you I won the bet! I think you're _scared_ you're going to enjoy losing too much!"

Hitsugaya growled in annoyance and threw himself even harder in the battle.

In and out, block and swing, over and over again.

The clashing of steel seemed almost musical, matched only by the smattering of the rain, which had begun to fall some minutes before, unnoticed by either.

Drops of rain ran down the collar of his shirt, mingling with his sweat.

Water clung to Matsumoto's hair like a fine dew, winding snakelike down her chest.

_Damn, she was beautiful_.

Matsumoto advanced again. She cut across his legs, water droplets fanning off of her hair with the force of her movement. Hitsugaya jumped over her sword, raising his own to obstruct hers but his foot slipped in the newly formed mud.

Suddenly, it was over.

He was lying on his back in the soft, wet earth with Haineko pressed against his throat. Matsumoto was crouched across his body, her hair falling to one side as she gazed at him with triumphant eyes.

"_You lost_," she stated, tossing Hyōrinmaru aside. Hitsugaya, mesmerized by her nearness, nodded his head only a fraction of an inch. Smiling in satisfaction Matsumoto threw her own blade down.

She rested her hands softly on his chest, sending shivers that had _nothing_ to do with his damp clothes scurrying up Hitsugaya's spine. Their gazes met― turquoise and silver.

He never knew what made him do it.

It could have been the ramification of exercising such strict control over oneself for such a long time.

Perhaps it had been the adrenaline still coursing through his body from the fight. Or maybe it was the fact that she was the most captivating woman he had ever seen and he had hormones.

But the fact remains that, without thinking, without planning, Hitsugaya wrapped one arm around her waist and, winding his other hand up to cup the back of her neck, he brought Matsumoto flat against him and pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss was light, almost hesitant at first until Matsumoto tilted her head and deepened it.

Hitsugaya could feel _everything_, her eyelashes brushing his cheek, the bone in her hip, the wet strands of her hair, and her chest pressed against his own. Her hand trailed down his torso, leaving a shock of heat in its wake. He thought that the world might have dropped out from under him when her tongue brushed lightly against his own.

He grazed his hands down her side and she moaned softly into his mouth.

Sanity seemed to slam back into Hitsugaya with the noise.

_What was he doing?_ He was kissing his _fukutaichō_, his older, and much more experienced fukutaichō at that.

Matsumoto pulled back, wondering why he had so suddenly gone still. His phenomenal eyes were staring at her, wide and confused. He looked almost…_horrified_.

She rested her forehead against his, her fingers curling into his shirt. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice low and breathless.

Roughly, Hitsugaya pushed her off of him, angry at how far he had let, what he _supposed_ was going to be her small payment kiss, go.

Startled, Matsumoto merely lay there, propped on her elbows, watching as he pulled on his white haori, buckled the sea-green sash around his chest and sheathed Hyōrinmaru, all without looking at her.

He had already begun to walk out of the clearing before Matsumoto found her voice.

"Taichō, I- I don't understand―"

"_You were right,_" he said, so softly she had to strain to hear him as his back was turned to her. "_I enjoyed losing far too much."_

Matsumoto pushed herself into a sitting position, still not quite comprehending that he was _leaving_ her.

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya said, his voice a little stronger. "You have the rest of the week free. I don't want to see you in the office."

And he was gone.

As Matsumoto lifted herself off of the ground, she furiously wiped away a tear she had not noticed, mingled as it was among the rain on her face.

A/N: "Take a drink and a pee, we'll be back for act three…." Don't forget to review!


	3. The Unexpected Order

A/N: I was suffering from a severe case of writer's block after completing the second chapter. That having been officially removed by a bolt of inspirational lightning, I wrote this chapter as fast as humanly possible. It appears that once again my estimation of total chapter numbers is off. Right now it seems that there will be four and not three chapters to this story, but that is subject to change. Hope you enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review!

* * *

**Paying Up  
****Chapter Three: The Unexpected Order**

Shunsui was sprawled on the roof of the Eighth Division office. He grinned as he basked in the late Friday afternoon sunshine, his favorite straw hat pulled low over his eyes. Next to him his newly appointed fourth seat, Takahashi Okuni sat strumming her samisen; her sweet voice dancing over an original composition she had entitled _The Ballad of Shunsui and Nanao_.

Shunsui smiled at the lyrics, certain that this song would swiftly become one of his favorites.

"_Oh kawaii Nanao-chan how I love you so,_

_I have tried for many years to show you this and although,_

_I have been kissed many times by your book or your fan,_

_Never have your sweet lips and mine ever touched,_

_Why will you not believe I love you, when I tell you as such?_

_And so poor Nana, doomed to be,_

_The object of Shunsui's desires through all eternity,_

_Tried to evade his advances and succeeded fairly well,_

_But somewhere along the way, in love our clever Nanao fell._

_Swept up in her emotion's powerful tide,_

_Her lips compulsively formed smiles she tried desperately to hide_

_Whenever her Taichō would call for his sweet Nana_― oh no…"

Okuni trailed off, her fingers stilling over the strings.

Shunsui, who had quite been drawn into the lovely melody, pushed his hat up with one finger. "Okuni-san, what's wrong? I was quite enjoying that…" He propped himself up on his elbows and saw immediately what was wrong.

Matsumoto had just emerged onto the roof.

_Anyone_, even one who was not as familiar with the usually perky Fukutaichō of the Tenth Division, could see that _something_ was bothering her. Her pink scarf was lopsided, as was her shirt, causing one of Matsumoto's infamous breasts to be showcased more than the other― a situation Matsumoto usually could not tolerate. She had visible bags underneath her eyes and her fair complexion was bordering on pallid. The dead give away that both Shunsui and Okuni noticed before any of the other signs however, was her hair. Her glorious, waist-length hair, the one thing about her appearance that Matsumoto took the greatest pride in…was pulled back into a braid.

A tousled braid with _frizz_.

Whatever had occurred had to have been _bad_.

"Ran-san!" Shunsui said, taken aback by her dismal appearance. "What happened?"

Matsumoto merely shook her head, causing a few more strands of radioactive hair to pop out. Okuni quickly put down her instrument and went over to Matsumoto, wrapping one arm around her and leading her to sit down away from the roof's edge.

"It was Mr. My Hairstyle Compensates For My Height, wasn't it?" Okuni asked gently.

"Hitsugaya?" Shunsui clarified, pushing himself fully into a sitting position.

Matsumoto drew her knees up to her chest and, burying her face in them, nodded once more. Shunsui waited for a minute, thinking Matsumoto would burst with information any second, but when she didn't even move, he decided it was time for drastic measures.

"Okuni-san," he said briskly to the girl hovering on Matsumoto's other side, "I think this calls for sake."

Matsumoto nodded her agreement against her knees.

"Kyōraku Taichō, I don't think it's wise to pour _more_ sake into an already inebriated person, do you?"

Shunsui blinked at the back of Okuni's long brown pony-tail which was swinging back and forth, its owner frozen in mid-motion. Shunsui's brow furrowed, he couldn't understand why the petite girl (who could give some of the most seasoned squad veterans a run for their money in the alcohol department) was refusing to fetch him sake in Matsumoto's time obvious time of distress.

"Okuni-san, you're seriously starting to sound exactly like Nanao."

"Maybe, that's because I _am_ Nanao," a voice returned acidly. Shusui turned around to see Nanao standing imperiously over him. "You didn't even know I was here?"

Shunsui grinned up at her, unabashed. "Isn't it understandable, my darling Nanao-chan? I was distracted by our mutual friend in need. Now, Okuni bring me that sake."

"_Tea_," Nanao corrected as the girl made to leave. "Strong tea. And see if you can't find any of her hangover remedy while you're at it. Thank you, Okuni."

The small shinigami nodded swiftly and scurried off to fill her Fukutaichō's order.

Nanao set herself neatly down in between her oldest friend and her lover. She seemed to decide it was best to forgo questioning Matsumoto until she had at least a cup of tea in her. Instead, Nanao turned a critical eye on her Taichō who was gazing at her with _that_ look.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked. "Don't you have paperwork you should be completing?"

"Certainly not, Nanao-chan," Shunsui replied, looking affronted. "Today is a day to celebrate the accomplishments of our newly seated squad members! In fact, our fourth seat was just testing out a song that she wrote for tonight's party. It's a lovely ballad, but _not nearly_ as lovely as my Nanao-chan."

Nanao went to administer a swift crack to his knuckles with the fan she kept tucked in her sash for this purpose, but the attempt was half-hearted and Shunsui grabbed her hand, placing a gentle, whiskered kiss to the palm. Nanao's face flushed, delighting Shunsui with the fact that he had not yet lost his effect on her, but she shot him a look that clearly said '_not now,'_ as Matsumoto, who had been watching the exchange blearily, blanched.

A few moments later Okuni returned bearing a tray laden with four cups and a fat teapot. The sight reminded Matsumoto heavily of that wonderful night on the roof she had spent with her Taichō not long ago. Her heart twinged painfully along with her pounding headache.

Nanao pressed a steaming cup of tea into Matsumoto's hands and said calmly, "Now Rangiku, you are going to tell us what happened. It will make you feel better and we may be able to help."

Matsumoto took a bracing gulp of her tea and began talking slowly.

_Matsumoto Rangiku was many things, but she was not one to take rejection lying down. Determined to at least find out the reasons behind her Taichō's abrupt ending of what had been turning into an incredibly pleasurable moment, Matsumoto went to her quarters to bathe and change before returning to the office she was not supposed to enter for another week. _

_It was late by the time Matsumoto had both eaten and primped enough to muster her courage. Despite the hour, she was positive that she would find her Taichō in the office, doing what he always did when he was faced with a particularly nasty emotional situation—bury himself up to his spiked hair in paperwork._

_Matsumoto had barely pushed open the door when his voice cut through the silence. _

"_What are you doing here Matsumoto? I believe I told you that I did not want to see your face in the office for the rest of the week."_

_Ignoring this, Matsumoto shut the door behind her, enshrouding them in darkness with only the single lamp on Hitsugaya's desk for illumination. _

"_I wanted to talk to you about earlier, Taichō," Matsumoto said hesitantly. _

"_Personal matters are not to be discussed in the office, Matsumoto. _Especially_ an office you are not supposed to be in for the duration of the week," Hitsugaya stated firmly, his pen scratching his signature on another document._

"_Well, seeing as the personal business concerns _youHitsugaya Taichō_," Matsumoto said as evenly as possible, "and you're too scared to leave the office and talk to me, I guess that we'll have to make an exception."_

_Hitsugaya's head snapped up. "Are you suggesting that I am a coward, _Fukutaichō_?"_

"_No, I am suggesting that you're being stupid," Matsumoto returned sweetly, coming to stand on the other side of the desk. _

_Hitsugaya slammed his pen down and stood up, glaring at her over the polished wood. Matsumoto placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward, allowing the lamplight to dance over her…assets. She was rewarded when his gaze drifted almost imperceptibly downwards before snapping quickly back to hers. _

_That was one reason she adored her Taichō, he was the only man she'd worked with who had enough self-control to force himself to stop staring at her breasts. _

"_I want to know why you walked away from me," she demanded softly, her voice lacking all traces of its usual playfulness._

"_I walked away from you because I made a mistake," Hitsugaya replied. "I shouldn't have done what I did and I'm sorry." He broke eye contact and ran a hand through his hair. _

"_It didn't look like a mistake from where I was sitting...or lying," Matsumoto said suggestively, but the earnestness was still evident in her voice. _

"Damn it_, Matsumoto," Histugaya said, shoving the chair away from him and beginning to pace the room. _

"_What?" she asked, moving a stack of papers carelessly and sitting on his desk. _

"_We can't have a…a…"_

"_Relationship?" she finished for him, arching an eyebrow. Did he have to look so utterly adorable while agitated? "And why not?" _

"Because_," he barked, the pace of his steps increasing. "It's not appropriate. You're my Fukutaichō. It wouldn't reflect well on either of us."_

"_But Shunsui and Nanao are lovers," Matsumoto protested with a hint of smug pride. "People seem happy for _them_ and Yamamoto hasn't given them the boot. As long as they work well together, who cares?" _

"_They're different," Hitsugaya said dismissively. _

"_How so?" Matsumoto said pleasantly, sure that she had him cornered. _

"_He's older than she is," Hitsugaya stated as if that proved his whole point. _

"_So? There's still an age gap between them. Do you really think age matters that much Taichō? You're old enough to make your own decisions."_

"_No, Matsumoto. It's…it's not that simple." He sighed and shook his head._

"_Why not?" Matsumoto asked, sincerely confused. _

"_Yes, I am old enough to make my own decisions and one day, when I'm taller than you," he said this as if he knew he would outgrow her for a fact, "people might look at us and not care about the age difference between us. But right now…I don't want people to talk about you like that."_

"_But people talk about me anyway," Matsumoto said, slipping of the desk and going to stand before him. "I hardly think one or two more rumors will break my spirit, Taichō." _

_She laced her arms around his neck and his hands instinctively latched onto her waist. His brilliant eyes stared up at her._

"_No Matsumoto, I won't do it." Hitsugaya gently took her arms off of his shoulder and extricated himself from her embrace. "I won't give them a reason to say things."_

"_Like what?" Matsumoto laughed, determined that she would wear him down._

"_Like _what_?" he snorted. "Don't you know what they say about you? That you―"_

"_Use my large boobs and good looks as an unfair advantage and that I am too stupid and lazy to deserve my rank?" Matsumoto finished for him. _

"_No, that you slept with Gin in order to secure yourself a place in the shinigami academy and then whored yourself out to the whole of the Seireitei in order to achieve and maintain your rank as fukutaichō!" Hitsugaya burst out, frustrated. _

_Matsumoto stared at him in shock. Rumors had followed her since her entrance into the academy, but she thought she had proven herself an able officer. _Never_ had she imagined that people still believed _this_ about her…_

_A horrible thought crashed into her already reeling mind. _

"_Do you _believe_ them?" she asked, her voice wavering in outrage and pain. "Is that why you shoved me off this afternoon? You think I'm trying to seduce you for…I thought _you_ of all people would know that I deserve this job…"_

"_Matsumoto, look at who you're talking to!" Hitsugaya demanded, angrily._

"_I am looking!" she returned. "You think I can't love only one person at time, is that it? You think that if you get involved with me, it'll only be a matter of days before I find myself a better-looking man and just…run off with him?"_

"_Well you don't exactly have the best track record, do you?" Hitsugaya snapped. _

"_I— I don't," Matsumoto started but words failed her. _

_They just stared at each other, breathing raggedly, disbelief radiating out of both sets of wide eyes. _

"_I'll…I will be filing transfer papers in the morning," Matsumoto said quietly, but the words echoed horribly in the silence of the office. She turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the room. _

_As the door slammed closed in her wake she could Hitsugaya's voice thundered after her._

"_MATSUMOTO!"_

Matsumoto gave a small hiccough as she finished her story, burying her head in her knees. Around her, Okuni, Nanao, and Shunsui stared at her, their mouths hanging open.

"He called you a _what_?" Okuni inquired indignantly.

"_A whore_," Matsmoto's muffled voice supplied. "I got… _the_ papers once I woke up and was able to stand the sunlight but…I just _couldn't_…"

Nanao adjusted her glasses and shared a significant look with Shunsui.

"Rangiku," Nanao began, blinking at her friend, "Is it possible that you and Hitsugaya Taichō could have _misunderstood_ what the other was saying?"

"What?" Matsumoto asked, turning her head so she gazed back at Nanao.

"_Well_…perhaps he was just trying to express what others' misguided opinions about you are and _somehow_ the words didn't come out as he expected them to, resulting in a dire misunderstanding."

Matsumoto, with her pounding headache and aching limbs, was having much difficulty deciphering her best friend's usual form of speaking. Seeing this and sympathizing with poor Matsumoto's lack of brain functionality at the moment, Shunsui translated.

"The kid was trying to tell you that he didn't want other people thinking you're a whore but he was nervous and accidentally ended up calling you one anyway."

He shrugged his shoulders as Nanao shot him a look. Shunsui was sorely tempted to kiss the severe expression off of her face, but he had lived long enough to know that this was _not_ the time.

"Look, Ran-san," Shunsui said gently. "The point is that you happen to have feelings for a younger man, one who is not particularly experienced in the ways of love, as we more _worldly_ people are. I believe that, despite his unhealthy obsession with doing paperwork and getting it done on time"― he cringed visibly while Nanao rolled her eyes― "he at the _very least_ is attracted to you and wants the best for the woman who was his friend and fukutaichō long before these deeper feelings developed."

Shunsui shrugged, gesturing noncommittally with his teacup. "Hitsugaya wants people to see you for the strong and capable shinigami you are, without having your reputation besmirched by a somewhat…unusual relationship."

Now it was Shunsui's turned to be stared at. He paused, teacup halfway to his lips.

"_Besmirched_?" Nanao asked, her eyebrows raised in astonishment. She tried to mask the fact that she was suddenly seized with a very strong desire to kiss him for his obvious care and understanding.

"_Yare_, Nanao-chan, don't sound so surprised. Contrary to your belief, I _can_ read."

He stopped mid-sip to deflect the sharp rap of reprimand from Nanao's fan.

"Still so violent, Nanao," he teased while she spluttered about how she had _not_ been insinuating he couldn't read. "We can find _plenty_ of use for all that pent up energy can't we?" He winked suggestively.

Nanao, flushed brightly as Okuni laughed and Matsumoto managed a small smile. Nanao brought her arm back to give Shunsui another whack but they were interrupted by a quiet cough.

The four friends had been so engaged in their conversation that all of them had failed to notice the arrival of Yamada Hanatarō of the Fourth Squad, who was standing awkwardly off to the side of their perch on the roof, clutching a piece of paper in front of him.

"Yamada-san!" Okuni greeted brightly.

"H-hello, Takahashi-san," Hanatarō returned her greeting, blushing slightly at the sight of the petite brunette.

"_Okuni_," she corrected.

"Then you must call me Hanatarō, Okuni-san," he said, beaming widely at her insistence to drop formalities. "And congratulations on your appointment!"

"Thanks!" Okuni said, flushing with pleasure.

A silence fell, in which the two youngest members of the group proceeded to smile blindingly at each other, causing Shunsui to chuckle knowingly.

"Was there something you needed, Hanatarō-san?" Shunsui asked, genially. "Or did you just come to offer your congratulations to Okuni-san, in which case you must come and join us."

"_Oh_," Hantaraō said, tearing his eyes away from Okuni. "Actually, Hitsugaya Taichō asked me to deliver this to Matsumoto Fukutaichō when I was passing by." He held out the paper he had been holding, his eyes radiating concern as they came to rest on the disheveled Matsumoto.

Matsumoto reached out one hand took the paper, squinting at it. Hangovers were _not_ conducive to reading. Her eyes widened as they read the document over, a small gasp escaping her lips. Matsumoto was convinced that she was hallucinating, a side effect of her drinking an ungodly amount of sake in depression the night before.

"What is it?" Nanao asked but Matsumoto was so stunned she could not reply.

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Okuni snatched the paper out of Matsumoto's weak grip. The brunette's large expressive eyes scanned the page, her eyebrows rising higher with each successive word. She reached the bottom and swore loudly.

"It can't be _that_ shocking," Nanao chided, holding out her arm for the paper. Okuni handed the paper quickly to Nanao who held it at an angle which would allow Shunsui to read it over her shoulder.

"_Damn_," Shunsui breathed as his eyes scanned the paper.

MATSUMOTO RANGIKU  
is herby ordered to report to the Tenth Division  
in order to engage in a drinking contest with the division's highest ranking officer.

This order is issued and approved by Hitsugaya Toshirō,  
Taichō, Division Ten of the Gotei Thirteen.

* * *

A/N: (Laughs manically and dances around). If you want it to conclude, you better review! Okay, so that didn't exactly rhyme...speaking of rhyme didn't you love my use of intermal rhyme in _The Ballad of Shunsui and Nanao_? 


	4. Paid in Kind

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to finish this, but I've been busy with organizing our summer camp, the first day of which was today. It went really well, I was so relieved! Anyway, this is the last official chapter to this story. I thought recently of a short epilogue, but I was so happy with the end of this that I'm not sure if I'm going to post it or not. I hope you enjoyed this story, thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Let me know if you want the epilogue and I'll post it despite my misgivings if you really want it. Who am I to deny my readers?

* * *

**Paying Up  
****Chapter Four: Paid in Kind**

**_This chapter is dedicated to Dark Kyubi, a 'breath of fresh air' among my readers.  
I hope you have a pile of women larger than Matsumoto's breasts lined up to date you._**

Okuni burst out laughing, followed just a sliver of a second later by Shunsui whose pink haori was driven from his shoulders with the force of his mirth.

Matsumoto, still in slight shock and incredibly confused, just watched as they somehow crossed the distance separating them and fell, still roaring, and occasionally snorting, onto each other.

Nanao on the other hand seemed not to find the situation amusing at all. Peering down at the paper through her spectacles, she was meticulously scanning every inch of the document, front and back, even holding it up to the light.

"You have to go," Nanao pronounced after a few moments.

Okuni and Shunsui went silent for a moment, then caught the other's eye and dissolved into another round of giggles.

"And _what_ is it that you find so amusing, Taichō?" Nanao asked dryly.

Shunsui gulped for air, his hand coming up to clutch his chest as he grinned at his fukutaichō.

"Isn't it obvious, Nanao-chan?" Shunsui said, looking slightly disbelieving that Nanao couldn't see the hilarity of the situation. "Rangiku can out-drink _me_ when she's having a good night. She'll drink Hitsugaya under the table without so much as a flush coming to her cheeks!"

"He must be _insane_!" Okuni stated euphorically. "Or _desperate_!"

"Excuse me," Hanatarō said timidly from where he was still standing off to the side. "Pardon me for interrupting, when this isn't my business at all, but is that order even _legal_?"

Matsumoto whipped her head around to face Nanao; she had been wondering exactly the same thing.

"Nanao?" she asked, her voice full of unease.

"The order _is_ authentic. At first I thought it was some kind of joke but it even bears the Tenth Division watermark. You have to go report to him Matsumoto or else he could have you brought before a tribunal for disobeying a direct order."

Nanao sighed. Clearly, she disapproved whole-heartedly of the entire situation but could not see a way for her friend to evade Hitsugaya.

"_Yare_," Shunsui said, still struggling to wipe the grin off of his face. "Surely the tribunal would take one look at Hitsugaya's order and vote in Rangiku's favor?"

Nanao shook her head. "One would think. But, then again Rangiku never has shown any dislike for sake. The court might view it as a personal joke between a Taichō and Fukutaichō and dismiss it all. That's what _I_ would do."

"This is _ridiculous_," Shunsui declared, pouring Matsumoto another cup of tea with a flourish.

"That means a lot coming from you," Nanao said, arching an eyebrow.

Matsumoto sipped her tea, remaining oddly quiet. _What is he up to? _she thought. _He hates to drink— he's always yelling at me that I shouldn't do it. _

She had made up her mind.

"I'm going," Matsumoto stated loudly, interrupting the rather spirited conversation between Shunsui and Okuni who were speculating at how much Hitsugaya could drink. Okuni had just been pointing out that maybe he had secretly been building up a tolerance for sake just so he could use this tactic. This caused even Nanao to smile at how outrageous her theory was.

"_What_?" Okuni demanded.

Matsumoto reached across and popped the cork on the rather large bottle of her own famous hangover remedy that Okuni had brought with the tea. She downed a sizable gulp, relishing the taste; pickles and butterscotch syrup poured over mashed cheddar potatoes, her favorite midnight snack.

"Well she _does_ have to follow orders," Nanao stated grimly, her face flushing as Shunsui leant his whiskered cheek on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"And I'm going to," Matsumoto said, taking another swig from the bottle, "but the order never said _when_ I had to report. I'm not going anywhere until I feel able to and I don't think that's going to be for a long time."

Shunsui toasted this decision with his tea cup, grinning as he had succeeded briefly in his favorite pastime― flustering Nanao.

"I hope you keep him waiting all day," Okuni said haughtily. "After all, he did call you a whore."

Matsumoto smiled at the girl's indignation on her behalf.

"Okuni-san, why don't you delight us with some of your music?" Shunsui said. "I want Nanao to hear your latest artistic achievement."

He turned with a benign smile to Hanatarō and gestured that he should have a seat beside Okuni, who offered him tea from her own cup. He took the cup from her hands, blushing soundly and took a reverent sip. Okuni remarked sympathetically at how overworked he was.

"You know, Okuni," Matsumoto said when the last note of _The Ballad of Shunsui and Nanao_ had died into silence. "You will have to write a song when I win this silly competition of Taichō's."

"Of course!" Okuni replied enthusiastically. "I think I shall call it _Hitsugaya's Defeat _or maybe _Drowned in a River of Sake…" _

She started strumming a livelier tune, one which would lend itself splendidly to a drinking song.

"_Hitsugaya, you ought to learn not to try-a,_

_Out-drinking our Ran-gi-ku,_

_For you can see we are not li-yas,_

_When we say she'll drink __**way**__ more than you…_

_Oh, Hitsugaya's gonna drown in a river of sake,_

_While our Ran-san stays afloat,_

_Sailing high beneath a hazy sky,_

_Held up by a sake-bottle boat…"_

- - -

Matsumoto did not return to the Tenth Division until much later that afternoon, having downed the entire bottle of hangover remedy. She had then slipped in the backdoor of the mess hall and procured some food before returning to her quarters. She slept for a few hours before taking a long bath, after which she brushed her hair until it was positively lustrous.

She donned her favorite yukata, a deep turquoise one lined with cheery pink as if it were battle armor and dusted her face with subtle make-up like it was war-paint. She added a new coat of Sunrise Pink nail polish (a shade which she secretly called Blushing Taichō Pink) to her fingers for good measure. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Matsumoto declared herself ready and set out to find Hitsugaya.

She was surprised that, when she finally managed to locate his reiatsu, he was not in the office, perched on its roof, or even in his quarters.

"Fancy seeing you here, Hitsugaya Taichō," Matsumoto drawled dulcetly as she entered the clearing in the forest where they always sparred.

Hitsugaya was sitting next to the large, flat boulder they usually used to put their excess items on. He had one knee drawn up to his chest, an elbow casually draped over it. He was holding a manga in his free hand. His eyes, the color of Matsumoto's yukata, were just visible over the top of pages.

"You're late, Matsumoto," he replied harshly.

"The order failed to specify _when_ I had to report, but I'm here," she laughed airly. "Matsumoto Rangiku, whore, reporting for duty."

"Fukutaichō," Hitsugaya stated, tossing the manga a few feet to the left. "I _never_ want you to use that word and your name in the same sentence again. That's an order."

Their eyes met and the guilt he was trying so hard to hide almost made her regret her visit to the First Division that morning. _Almost_.

"The order mentioned something about a drinking contest," Matsumoto smiled dangerously.

"Yes," Hitsugaya said shortly, gesturing to the large bottle of sake and two glasses sitting on top of the boulder.

"_Well_," Matsumoto prompted, seating herself gracefully across from Hitsugaya. "What is the prize?"

"Prize?" he asked, snorting indignantly. "What do you take me for Matsumoto? No, it's more like…_a bet_."

Matsumoto was needless to say intrigued.

"And what do I get _when_ I win?" she asked, flicking her hair over her shoulder carelessly and examining her newly painted nails. As she saw the flush of annoyance rise to Hitsugaya's cheek, matching the color perfectly she wondered sadly how it had come to _this_. Out of all of the captains and vice-captains in the Seireitei, she and Hitsugaya had, to the surprise of many, seemed to be a well-matched pair, the least likely to dissolve their duo anytime soon.

She watched with a slightly vindictive pleasure as Hitsugaya struggled to clamp down on his temper. _He must really be sorry_, Matsumoto noted, _he doesn't usually prevent himself from yelling at me when annoyed._

"_If_ you win," Hitsugaya replied, his adorable nose scrunched up, "you are free to leave and are not obligated to listen to what I have to say. However, if _I_ win, you must listen to me and I get …" he trailed off, the color in his cheeks rising.

"You get _what_, Taichō?" Matsumoto asked, arching an eyebrow.

"A kiss," he replied bluntly.

She looked up sharply, her eyes meeting his in surprise. Whatever she had expected, it had _not_ been _that_. And, though Hitsugaya was blushing furiously, his eyes held the same blazing look they always did right before Hitsugaya released his bankai. Her Taichō was downright determined to win.

But by _no means_ would Matsumoto just lay back and let him take her so easily. _Well, maybe another day_, she thought devilishly. Right now, however, she was still far from forgiving him.

"A kiss fromone who's been around so much?" she asked innocently. "That doesn't seem too great a reward."

Hitsugaya eyed her stonily. "It doesn't matter what _you_ think. I have the right to pick whatever I want."

Matsumoto shrugged. "Let's just get on with this so I can go get Nanao to help me fill out my transfer request form. I never was too good a paperwork."

She hurled this last comment at him like an insult as it was the thing he most often yelled at her for. She knew he would miss her, just as badly as she would miss him, if he ended up with a hard-ass like himself.

"You know the rules?" Hitsugaya asked flatly, though she could almost see the vein she knew was throbbing in his temple.

Matsumoto snorted. "Of course I know the rules," she scoffed, "I don't have a reputation as the second best sake drinker in the Gotei Thirteen for nothing."

Hitsugaya sent her a look which clearly said 'And that's something to be proud of?' but refrained from voicing it. Instead, he reached out to the large bottle of sake and poured it into the two cups.

Matsumoto took hers with an indulgent smile, hardly believing that her little slip of a Taichō (who was _still_ small despite the fact that he had recently grown a few inches), could out-drink her.

She drained her first cup and watched as Hitsugaya did the same. She took the liberty of pouring their second glass, thinking this one, or maybe the next, would be the one to do her poor Taichō in.

She knocked her cup back swiftly, thoroughly looking forward to watching her ever sturdy Taichō weave his way back drunkenly to the office. Matsumoto wondered what sort of secrets she could divulge from Hitsugaya when inebriated, seeing as he was so difficult to wheedle information out of normally.

Her grin slowly faded from her face as she realized that something was wrong.

Hitsugaya, who had raised the second glass to his lips, slowly lowered it back down the table, the moonlight playing off of the liquid which was visible inside. But the thing that scared her most was the smirk spreading rapidly over his features, the smirk which she knew was a clear indication that Hitsugaya knew something she did not.

"Done already, Taichō?" she teased, but he could hear the trepidation in her voice.

"Yes," he replied simply. He shrugged his shoulders in a would-be casual manner. "I don't see the point in drinking anymore when you've already lost."

Matsumoto burst out laughing. "Taichō, I've had _two_ drinks to your one, which means that if you stop now, I win."

"No," he repeated, the turquoise eyes gleaming with triumph. "_You lost_."

"What?" Matsumoto asked, sincerely confused.

Hitsugaya shook his snowy head in a patronizing manner. "You said it yourself; you never were good at paperwork. Do you have the order I sent you?"

Matsumoto drew the order from where she had tucked it into the sash at her waist and placed it on the flat rock.

Hitsugaya opened the order with an uncharacteristic flourish and held it up at eye level for her to read, smugness at his own genius etched all over his features. "Read the fine print, Matsumoto," he commanded.

She re-read the document out loud, her eyes squinting at the page for something she had missed. And there, at the edge of the paper were words printed minutely in Hitsugaya's own neat, block lettering.

"_The winner of the contest will be determined by who drinks the _least_ amount of alcohol…,"_ she said incredulously, her eyes narrowing as she chucked the document at him. "That's underhanded, Taichō."

"You _said_ you knew the rules," Hitsugaya said, "and the rules were clearly stated on the document. You lost, Matsumoto."

Matsumoto was furious. Nanao had examined every inch of that paper, she _had_ to have known. Had she _wanted _her to lose? Matsumoto would deal with her later. She pushed herself off from the ground. Hitsugaya stared petulantly up at her.

"You're not backing out on a bet, Matsumoto?" he asked. She whirled back around, furious at how well he could manipulate her. Matsumoto flounced down onto the ground, facing away from him, her hair fluffing slightly with the movement.

Hitsugaya shook his head slightly at this behavior, but decided he probably deserved it for tricking her so badly. He stood up and moved so he was sitting directing in front of her, his legs stretched out before him, supporting himself on his hands. The look of victory had faded from his face, replaced by a more thoughtful brooding one.

"I'm sorry, Matsumoto," he said, looking hard at her. "Whatever I said…whatever it sounded like…it's not what I meant. I― you're one of the best shinigami I know. You may not be the most…_responsible_ person when it comes to paperwork, but the job is more than that, both you and I know it."

He sighed at the awkwardness of this confession, he had dropped his eyes long ago but he could still feel her scorching gaze on his face.

"Not many people would be willing to take orders from someone…younger than them but you…_Please_, don't file for transfer, Matsumoto."

Matsumoto blinked, completely thrown off by the word _please_ coming from her Taichō. That was _nothing_, however, compared to the actual desperation in his voice.

She bit her lip, shaking her head, her hair flicking around her.

"You want to share your office with the military's whore?" she asked quietly.

She could not stop herself. The idea that people thought of her that way, that _he_ might think of her that way had cut so deep…

"I thought I told you I didn't want to hear you say that word ever again, Matsumoto," Hitsugaya said, bristling. "I won't tolerate others to think of you that way and I certainly will not allow you to buy into their stupidity."

He ran his hair through his hair, frustrated as she just blinked at him with those captivating eyes.

"I don't think you're a…you're anything like _that_. I just didn't like what others might say about you if we…if _we_…" his eyes met hers and the sincerity and affection that Matsumoto saw there was almost overwhelming.

"I care about you, Matsumoto," he said simply.

There was a long, drawn out silence and then…Matsumoto flung herself at Hitsugaya and he had to struggle to maintain his balance without falling back into the grass. "I care for you too, Taichō!" she squealed.

Matsumoto frowned as she hugged him, perched on his lap. His face didn't sit directly in her cleavage anymore. She wondered with a delightfully giddy feeling how long it would be before he would grow taller than her.

"You know, Taichō," she said gently after she drew back, running her hand languorously through his spiky hair, reveling in the fact that he was allowing her to. "I know I don't have much patience when it comes to _most_ things but there will be no one until you're ready."

Matsumoto draped her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead against his.

"I think you're more than worth the wait."

_I'll have to remember to thank Nanao, later,_ she thought as Hitsugaya merely grunted in dismissal.

"What a waste of time," he stated, curling his fingers around the pink scarf she had draped around her neck and tugging her face down to his.

"_Pay up, Matsumoto_," Hitsugaya demanded.

_And who am I, _Matsumoto grinned inwardly as she pressed her lips against his, _to disobey an order from my Taichō?_

* * *

A/N: Well, that's it…maybe. Leave me a review and feed my creative fire. 


	5. Epilogue: One Hundred Years Later

A/N: Well, here it is, the epilogue you so kindly asked for. This, unlike the epilogue for Tossed Aside is set some years down the road in Hitsugaya's and Matsumoto's relationship and consists of nothing but enough fluff to put bunny slippers out of business. The line at the end of the chapter is a take off from a statement made in Chapter Eight of Tossed Aside and it seemed to fit wonderfully.

* * *

**Paying Up  
****Epilogue: One Hundred Years Later**

Hitsugaya Toshirō rubbed the sleep out of eyes, shaking his snow white head back and forth as he tried to focus once more on his paperwork. It was rather hard to do so however, when he was conspicuously missing the large mug of tea that always got him through nights of late paperwork like this. He was also missing the woman who usually prepared the tea for him more than he cared to admit.

_Where is Matsumoto?_ Hitsugaya wondered, blinking at the snow-covered windowpane. He suddenly noticed how dark it was, both inside and outside the office. Scrunching his nose up at the prospect of _more_ paperwork, he dipped his pen back in the inkpot, figuring it would be best just to get it over with.

He was so intent on finishing that he barely paid attention to the quiet opening and closing of the office door. It wasn't until two elegant hands with perfectly pink manicured nails covered his eyes and a voice cooed, "Guess who, Taichō?" in his ear that he truly registered the presence of another person in his office.

"_Matsumoto_," Hitsugaya growled, more to distract himself from the fact that her breasts were pressed against his back and her warmth was incredibly enticing compared to the chill of the winter's night.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, reaching up to tug on one of the long silk sleeves that was hanging in his face. He left his hand on her sleeve as she uncovered his eyes with a giggle. Turning in his seat, he realized that she was wearing a beautiful turquoise-silk kimono with what appeared to be a warm under-layer and a simple sash instead of the complicated obi usually worn with such garments.

He raised an eyebrow at her stunning, but slightly confusing state of dress. "Did I miss a special occasion memo?"

She shook her fabulous hair at him. "No, but I'm still surprised you forgot all the same."

She jutted out her bottom lip slightly in the pout he had come both to despise and adore over the years. It meant the hurried retreat of any willpower he had left to resist her, though it also generally meant he would _significantly_ enjoy whatever scheme she had cooked up for the two of them.

She brushed a warm hand down his cheek, smiling softly when he turned his head slightly and kissed her palm, the frown still creasing his brow.

"Well?" he inquired petulantly, delighting Matsumoto that she could still catch a glimpse of the stubborn boy she had fallen in love with almost a century ago.

"How can you forget your own birthday, Toshirō?" she asked earnestly. "You never forget mine."

Hitsugaya turned away from her, picking up the pen, wanting to finish signing the last papers.

"Yours means more to me," he grunted, the quiet statement punctuated by the scratching of the pen on the penultimate piece of paper.

Matsumoto sighed, perching herself on the desk. "But I wanted to celebrate," she protested as he finished signing the last piece of paper. "Did you eat anything at all today after I left for lunch?"

Hitsugaya leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked, still slightly astonished that he could go for over four hours at a time without food and forever without sake.

"Yes," he replied absentmindedly. The truth was that he _was_ hungry, but the sight of Matsumoto perched on his desk, one endless leg completely exposed from the folds of the kimono he knew she had purposefully tied in such a seductive manner was making his appetite for food dwindle sharply as his appetite for _her_ peaked.

He bit back a frustrated groan as she slid off the desk, walking around to retrieve what appeared to be a large basket from beside the front door. "I brought food!" she said happily, reveling in the way she knew him so well.

Hitsugaya could not help but pull a face. Matsumoto wasn't exactly known for her cooking ability.

"Don't worry; it's some left over bentou and rice from dinner." She deposited the basket next to her on the large oak desk and retrieved some of its contents. Hitsugaya grudgingly allowed Matsumoto to flirtatiously feed him, laughing at the look on his face.

She bent down to remove a piece of rice from his lips, only to let in a sharp breath as he took her index finger and slowly sucked the piece of rice off of it, all the while staring at her with those commanding turquoise eyes.

He stood up slowly from his chair, keeping her hand held in his, his fingers brushing over her jumping pulse. Matsumoto blinked up into his face as he stood over her. She remembered with fondness the time, over a hundred years before, when he could not kiss her without blushing and his head barely passed her cleavage. Now, he was good four inches taller than her, just as he always swore he would be.

Hitsugaya drew her closer, covering her lips with his own.

Matsumoto pulled his head down further, to allow her better access to his mouth, smiling into the kiss when she felt his hands grip her hips and slide her to closer to the edge of the desk. His lips left hers, trailing down her throat, nibbling faintly here and there. She gasped when his slightly cool palm found the warm skin of the leg she had left bare, just for him. Hitsugaya ran his hand down the smooth flesh as he wrapped it around his waist, allowing her to feel what she could still do so easily to him.

He groaned appreciatively as she rocked slightly against him, white heat flaring behind his eyelids. She captured his lips once more, arching against him as his hand feathered the side of her breast. Matsumoto broke the kiss with great reluctance.

"Rangiku," Hitsugaya breathed, insistently pulling her flush against him but he was stopped as she put a slightly shaking hand on his chest.

"Your birthday present is in your quarters, Toshirō," she said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

"I was _hoping_ it was already sitting on my desk," he retorted, more frustrated than ever.

"But you can have me any old time," Matsumoto replied, kissing him softly on the nose, which he had wrinkled in the way she absolutely loved.

"Say I wanted you _now_," Hitsugaya returned insistently, drawing her off the desk and sliding her body deliberately down his, trying to make her notice, if she'd missed it before, how badly he wanted her.

She giggled softly. "Then," she sighed seductively, "_I_ would say, who could refuse the birthday boy?"

She laced their fingers together, and began to lead him slowly, sashaying her hips seductively, toward the stairs which led to his quarters above the office.

Hitsugaya let out an intolerant snort and swept Matsumoto into his arms, taking the stairs two at a time. He kissed her fervently on the landing, setting her on her feet in order to allow him to find the key he had placed in his haori earlier that morning.

"Um, Toshirō?" Matsumoto said hesitantly, more than a little breathless. "I _might_ have slipped that key out of your pocket so I could deliver your present earlier…"

Hitsugaya growled impatiently, reaching for her once more.

Matsumoto wondered idly if he was going to take her right there, something she really wouldn't have minded _at all,_ when something happened that had _never_ happened to Matsumoto before…

They broke the door down.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all **so much** for your reviews. I ask kindly that you leave just one more for me. I don't have any other stories planned in the Bleach world right now except for a one shot IshiHime that I've been sitting on since spring. However, if one of you were to request something specific and do it sweetly, I would probably consider writing it.

Until we meet again,

BVB


End file.
